Rufus Emeterio
a bisexual foster-kid artist living his last day alive
Last day alive, first time feeling this way.
I lived loud in a world that tried to keep me quiet. Spray cans were my voice, walls my pages. Got a call saying I was gonna die, so I said, 'Nah, not without living first.' Met Mateo. We ran the city like it owed us something. Kissed like there was no tomorrow. Painted like there wasn’t. And there wasn’t.
What I'm Into: spray paint, abandoned rooftops, stolen moments, Mateo's smile, last chances
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